The Day Before You
by writerella
Summary: Mac discovers a daughter from his past while Don finds himself drawn to her. M for language...so far lol...Future Mac/Stella and Flack/OC
1. Decisions, Decisions

A/N: This story is dedicated to my friend, Sam (the other one lol) Thanks for the idea!

A/N2: This chapter is mostly character history. It'll get to the good stuff later lol Please let me know what you think!!!

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Miss Taylor-Sullivan,

As per requested, documentation regarding your birth family is attached to this letter. If you have any questions please call the Office of Children & Family Services.

Sincerely,

Gabriella Garcia

OCFS Caseworker

I sat in a shaded area on the balcony of my third floor artsy, vintage apartment with the letter in my hand. Dressed in a tank top and khaki trouser shorts with my long, brown hair pulled back into a high pony tail, I sipped my iced tea. New York was going through a heat wave. Most of the city had resorted to staying inside in the air conditioning but I admired how the younger generations embraced the warmth.

There were about thirteen young kids outside playing in the water that the fire hydrant was vibrantly spraying, as their parents stand aside laughing at their children's exuberance. It was relaxing to hear their laughs and shrieks of joy. It was those joyful sounds in the big bad city were reassuring me that I was fighting for a purpose every time I put on my NYPD uniform. But it was also therapeutic to help me realize that not everyone's childhood is damaging. My mind began to wander back through time.

I bounced around from foster home to foster home until I turned 15. The years I spent in the system were tough, and often I ended up with families that only wanted me for a steady paycheck, and for a punching bag. Up until I turned 14, I'd been almost convinced into believing that I was worth nothing. That a person like me wasn't capable of being loved. No one had told me any different until I turned 15. That night, I decided that last night would be the last time that sick bastards would touch me and I ran away into the dark streets of NYC. I packed the only thing I needed, my real mother's necklace. It was a delicate, silver cross that I hid from my greedy 'parents'. The necklace gave me hope that I'd find my way through the mess that I'd called my life. Even with everything that happened to me, I knew that I was meant to do something great.

I lived on the streets for two weeks, dodging every cop car that I saw, fearing that my 'parents' had called them. One day, I'd ran into a convenience store to hide and snuck to one of the corners pretending to look at items as I could hear them talking outside the door.

The only other person in the store was a man dressed in a nice suit, who was looking at something a few feet away from me. I snuck a look at him and he looked back and smiled at me as he turned. My smile immediately faded as I saw his badge and gun through the opening of his jacket. He noticed my reaction immediately and looked at me curiously.

I backed away from the aisle with a candy bar in hand and fled from the store, hearing him and the other officers out front chasing after me. I'd run for five blocks before turning down an alley. I flew past the dumpsters and latched over a fence that blocked the alley and kept running once I hit the ground. I turned back to see where they were.

The one suited officer was just getting over the fence and the two other officers were well behind him, just turning into the alley. I ran as fast as I could once I heard him hit the pavement with a thud. He was yelling for me to stop but I kept running. I was ready to burst onto the street when the cop grabbed me from around the waist and pulled me onto the ground next to him, as a garbage truck flew by. We both were breathing heavily and he caught me by the wrist when I tried to get up again.

"Why were you run'n, huh?" he asked me with blue eyes flaring, trying to catch his breath and putting the cuffs on me to keep me restrained."Where the hell are your parents?!" I didn't answer him. He just stared at me.

A cop car pulled up and he opened the door for me. The entire ride was terrifying to me. Thoughts of what my 'parents' would do to me clouded my brain as I stared at the people on the streets. Once we were at the station, he questioned me about what I was doing and about my parents. I refused to say anything fearing that they would find out who I was.

The cop, whom I found out was Detective Sergeant Michael Sullivan, knew there was a reason why I was scared. He'd asked me about the deep, large bruises that were now fading. He had a lady come in and take my prints and they matched it quickly from the foster care system. I remember sitting in the waiting room of the department looking at the floor as the lady from social services told me that my 'parents' would be there soon, and she left. Tears filled my eyes, and I pulled my knees to my chest, and laying my forehead on my knees, holding tight. Sullivan had seen my reaction from a few feet away and came over to me, kneeling down in front of me and gently touching my shaking hands. I quickly pulled away, tears coming faster, and hugging myself tighter.

He knew. He didn't have to say anything, he just knew. When I felt him leave, I looked up to see him trying to catch up to the lady from social services just as my 'dad' entered into the building entrance across from where the cop was talking to the lady. My heart stopped as I saw him walk aggressively towards me with a violent look on his face. I froze in place. He grabbed me assertively by the upper arm and pulled me off the chair and in the direction of the entrance.

"What the hell were you thinking? You think you can just…"he started on me as I sobbed and looked away.

"HEY!" the cop yelled, getting my 'dad's' attention. "Get you god damn hands off of her!" He aggressively threw my arm out of his hand and I ran to the cop, throwing my arms around his waist, hanging on for dear life. I felt him put his hand on my head, gently stroking my hair.

"Mark, hook 'em up." Sullivan said forcefully to one of the uniforms. The cop cuffed him and took him away. The next time I saw him was in a courtroom. He was sentenced to twenty five years in prison for child pornography, abuse, and conspiracy to commit murder.

The latter had been discovered when my 'mother' was brought in for questioning. She admitted their plan to transform their birth daughter into a look-a-like of me to keep collecting checks. Since social services never sent the same person twice and they never really paid much attention no one would've noticed the difference. Sullivan had been disgusted. Murder for $300 a month.

"Pathetic", Sullivan said disgustedly, as he stepped outside of the interrogation room across from where I sat, running his hand through this dark brown hair.

He stopped when he saw me and his face softened. He told me that he was going to take care of some stuff but he'd be back in a little while. I sat at his desk observing the busy station around me, wondering what it would be like to be a cop. Fighting against people like my 'parents'. _Maybe, that's it. Maybe I'm meant to be a cop. Maybe I'm meant to make sure this doesn't happen to anyone else._ It was that moment that I knew.

One week after that day, I was put in yet another foster home. The social worker said that everything was in order and gave me a number just in case before she motioned for me to head to the door. The second I stepped out of the car I knew something was different about the place. The main difference being that it wasn't a slummy apartment; it was a three story, comfortable home that was almost picturesque. I was halfway to the house when the door opened and out stepped an excited, petite, red-headed woman with a warm, welcoming smile and a small present in her hand. She was about to say something when the door to the house opened again and out stepped a familiar face. Detective Sergeant Sullivan.

"Hi sweetie," the red-head greeted him as he put his arm around her waist. He smiled at me. Tears of happiness spilled onto my cheeks as I embraced him once again.

"I promise I will never let anything happen to you again, Samantha." he said quietly, tightly embracing me.

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The last years that I spent with them had diminished a lot of the bad memories that had loomed over me. I found out that they had wanted children for the longest time but had found out that, Julie Sullivan was unable to carry to term, resulting in tormenting emotional rollercoaster for the both of them. He'd told her about possibly bring in a foster child and she'd immediately been welcomed to the thought, she was actually surprised at his determination.

Knowing about my dark history while in the system, he insisted that they give me the proper help and took me to counseling on a regular basis. They'd turned out just like the parents I'd hoped for. Caring in every sense of the word. We went out for pizza on Fridays', got to visit Michael at work while becoming close to his coworkers, and went to the NY Ranger's games regularly. On my birthday that year, they had surprised me by asking permission to adopt me. I had tearfully responded joyfully with the only request to keep both Taylor and Sullivan as my last name, which they had no objections to. I finally had my mom and dad.

I finished high school at 17, after recovering my shoddy transcript from the previous years, mostly, because of Julie's determination as a college professor at Columbia University, something I admired her for. During high school, I enrolled at Columbia and completed a large amount of credits before I went to college full-time. I had no clue what I wanted to get into. I told my parents that I just wanted to get into the academy; however, my mom and dad were adamant that I go to college. Seeing how I couldn't make up my mind, I triple majored in Psychology, Biology, and Chemistry. I graduated by the time I was 21 and began my career with the NYPD. My dad was promoted to Chief of Detectives shortly following my graduation from the academy.

A child's exuberant shriek threw me back to the present. I smiled on last time and stood up, clinching the letter in my hand.

I had reluctantly admitted it to dad while I was in college and his reaction had taken me by surprise. "Sometimes, when you wanna get to where you're going; you gotta know where you come from." I remember teasing him about his sudden philosophical take on things. He laughed and softened saying that if I was serious that he'd help me and support me in finding them.

And here I was. Two years later and I finally have answers. But do I really want to know? Do I want to risk what I have right now? I sighed and put the letters back into the envelope, and headed inside to my cool apartment. I grabbed my jacket, slipping the letter into my back pocket and headed to my dad's office.

Let me know whatcha think so far!!!


	2. Advice and Answers

Disclaimer: CBS owns CSI:NY and Characters…I own the rest

A/N: I'm experimenting with point of view lol

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I grabbed my jacket, slipping the letter into my back pocket and headed to my dad's office.

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In the sunlight or the rain brightest nights or darkest days,

I'll always feel the same way,

whatever road you may be on,

know you're never too far gone my love is there wherever you may be,

just remember that you'll always be my baby.

-- You'll Always Be My Baby, Sara Evans

Sam walked into the main entrance through the police station to get to the main administration building. She past the main desk and flashed her badge to the familiar sergeant on duty behind the desk. He gave her an approving nod and motioned for me to go ahead, noticing several detectives and patrol officers checking her out as she swayed away.

"Don't you boys got work to do," he growled loudly, knocking them out of their reverie. She turned back and smiled at the Sergeant thankfully.

Transitioning into the Administration building she passed several offices before hearing a familiar voice.

"Samantha MacAiden Sullivan", a proud voice came from behind me.

It was Police Commissioner Jeffery Rollins walking casually towards her. His graying black hair had accentuated his deep, green eyes. He'd always had a tough, no bullshit attitude about work, but a much gentler and compassionate demeanor with family. He and Sullivan had been partners and best friends and had come to know her since she came to live with the Sullivan's.. He and his wife, Nora had treated her like their niece. She smiled warmly as he hugged her rather petite figure.

"What? No entourage?" Sam said jokingly, as he laughed heartily in response.

"Nah. Gave'm a break. I needed to get away from my desk for a while...too antsy." He said amusingly.

"Yeah, well if you ever feel the need to do any real police work I'm sure my Captain would be more than willing…" she starting teasingly.

"Ha Ha. Watch it, kid, unless you wanna be directing traffic in midtown." He joked as Sam snickered."You here for business or to see your dad?" Sullivan had told his friend in confidence about his daughter's thoughts about possibly finding her birth parents, something he and his wife could only support her on.

"Dad." she answered tightening her grip on the letter as they saw his burly figure walking towards them with a look of 'all business' on his face. He looked very professional in his crisp suit and dark blue shirt and matching tie. He looked up from the file he was carrying and smiled when he saw her.

"Hey Sweetie." he said, kissing his daughter softly on the head.

"Hey Daddy," she said. Rollins watched the exchanged between father and daughter and decided to let them be.

"Well, I gotta go do some cop things. I'll see you two later. Sammie, you should give Nora a call, she's been asking about you." he said, before giving her a hug one last time and leaving the duo alone. Michael noticed the letter in her hand and knew why she was here. He nodded his head before putting his arm around her and guided her to his office, closing the door behind them.

She moved casually to the table behind his desk and picked up one of several photographs that cluttered his office from ritual NY Ranger games to Yankee Games to family time. Most were of her. The one she now held was of her dad and her at her NYPD graduation. It was surprising how closely how much she resembled her adoptive father. For that she was grateful, it spared a lot of 'which parent to do you look like more' questions. He bared a proud grin on his face as she glowed with fulfillment.

"Feels just like it was yesterday, huh," he said walking towards her from the door, watching her and reminiscing about that day. "One of the proudest moments of my life." he said. She smiled at him and set the picture down.

"What's on your mind, pumpkin?" he asked softly. She handed him the letter. He took it in his hands noting where it came from. He looked up as she leaned back onto the desk. He sighed, knowing why she was there. She could've easily found out about her birth parents sooner but she had put it off.

"Daddy, there's so much I'm worried about. I don't know what to do…I want to know but…"she started, but he interrupted her.

"But you're scared how things will change." he finished. Sam nodded as tears threatened her eyes. He set the letter on his desk and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Sammie, you're always gonna be my baby no matter what. I know you're worried about what's gonna happen, whether it be if these people are amazingly great or really shoddy. The important thing is who you are now. You've made it through so much and grown into such a beautiful young woman. I've never been more proud of anyone in my life." he said full of emotion.

They held each other silently before he let out a small chuckle. "And if they become a problem for ya you always got a bunch of cops for a cover up." he said jokingly. Sam pulled away, slapped him on the shoulder, laughing.

"Like you and Uncle Jeff did to my Prom Date in high school?" she said mock accusingly. He looked down and grinned widely.

"Hey, he had it coming…I was just doing my job as a concerned parent" he said defensively, putting his hands up.

"Yeah, try explaining to my friends how my date wound up in lock-up for two days. For a while they actually believed that it's a crime to feel someone up. I didn't have many dates after that one." They laughed at the memory.

He picked up the letter. "You ready for this?" he asked her seriously. "Better or worse, baby, I'm with you on this one." She nodded.

He took the letter out of the envelope and leaned on the desk next to her, putting one arm around her, both having one hand on the letter. They skimmed down the paper to the Birth Parent Information section.

**Biological Mother:Age: Location:**

Aiden Katherine Thomson (Deceased) --

**Biological Father:Age: Location:**

Mac Taylor 42 New York, NY

Michael tried to hide his surprise when he saw the name Mac Taylor. His emotions were well hidden out of support for his daughter. Sam let out the breath she had been holding and felt her heart drop when she saw 'deceased'. He kissed his daughter's temple and rubbed her shoulder reassuringly.

"You okay, sweetie?" he asked.

"Yeah…I uh…I dunno." she said honestly, looking up to her father. He took the letter from her and set it on his desk as he leaned on it to face her.

"What are you thinking?" he asked. She looked conflicted.

"Disappointed, sad, happy, confused…kinda manic right now." she laughed at the last part. "I mean, it sucks about her but I'm just…I don't know what to do next." He nodded.

"Well meeting him would be the next logical step, don't ya think?" he joked, making her laugh. "I gotta be honest with you, Sammie. This Mac Taylor…" he started, unsure if he should tell her, "I know the guy…", She looked up at him in surprise.

"He's a cop…a detective actually…he's the lead investigator in charge of the Crime Lab." he said, as she sat down in his chair. He picked up a picture from behind his desk. It was from the Policeman's Ball four years ago. There were five people happily smiling. He pointed Mac out and gave the picture to her. She smiled at the sight, and tears threatened to fall. He watched his daughter's reaction. He was happy for her to finally have some kind of closure but was now adamantly concerned about the history behind Samantha's admittance to the foster care system. He wanted answers as any father would…and he would get them.

"I think I'm gonna wait. Let things process and see what happens," she said logically and stood up, breaking him from his thoughts. He nodded, kissed his daughter's head before hugging her tightly. "Thank you, Dad." she said sincerely. He rubbed her back reassuringly before letting her go. She grabbed the letter and headed to the door. She stopped as she was about to open it and looked back at him.

"I love you, Daddy." she said, meaning it with all her heart.

"I love you, too, peanut." he smiled as she left, closing the door behind her. He remained standing at his desk, as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button. _Time for some answers._ He picked up the phone and heard the familiar voice of his secretary on the line. Putting his fingertips to the bridge of his nose he answered. "Get me Detective Mac Taylor."

Please let me know what ya think! I'm not sure if I should keep this one up or not…hmmm…


	3. Confronting the Past

Disclaimer: CBS owns CSI:NY...I own the rest lol

A/N: Thanks for the review so far!!!! Keep'em coming!!!

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He picked up the phone and heard the familiar voice of his secretary on the line. Putting his fingertips to the bridge of his nose he answered. "Get me Detective Mac Taylor."

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Chief of Detectives Michael Sullivan waited patiently to take the elevator up to the 35th floor of the NYPD Crime Lab, doing his best to avoid the ass-kissing detectives that usually crowded him. He'd hung up the phone when he'd gotten Mac's voicemail and decided go there in person, bringing Sam's personnel file.

He'd always been a patient man in delicate situations like this and since his daughter was involved he wasn't about to change the way he presented himself. He knew that if he went off on Mac half cocked he'd not only be embarrassing himself but jeopardizing his relationship with his daughter. _His daughter._ Questions needed answers and he was going to do anything for her to get them without her getting hurt.

Sullivan noticed a familiar face walking towards him while engrossed in a conversation with another detective. His black well-fitted suit fit him well as his blue shirt accentuated his amazingly blue eyes. The one detective parted ways as Detective Donald Flack, Jr. headed towards the elevator and noticed Sullivan's presence.

"Chief Sullivan," he said surprised, firmly shaking the man's hand. Flack had been one of the few detectives that Sullivan truly like to be around and didn't hold his father's career over his head, something that Flack had graciously liked about him. Michael allowed Flack to be himself and Flack knew that unlike most cops didn't hold expectations on him purely because of who his father was. _"You're your own person"._ He'd said to Don during a previous conversation. He liked Flack because he wasn't trying to impress him like most detectives were and because he'd shown him nothing but respect. Flack admired Sullivan for his direction and his 'down-to-earth' approach to his work as well as his way of handling politics without being succumbed to the bureaucracy of things. Both men found a strong trust between each other.

"Detective Flack," Sullivan grinned and returned his shake. With a ding, they entered the elevator once it cleared out. Halfway up to the 35th Sullivan spoke. "Collins told me about that jewel theft case you and him worked on last week. $950,000 worth of lost valuables…" Flack nodded reminiscently. He was still pissed since Collins had taken complete credit for the bust and recovery. Sullivan looked straight ahead. "Good Job…" he said smiling, showing Flack that he knew what Collins had done. With a ding of the elevator, Sullivan stepped off onto the 35th floor with Flack following suit.

"Thank you, sir." Don said trying to hide the smile, parting ways with the Chief.

Sullivan saw Mac Taylor through the glass walls, working at this desk, engrossed in a file. He knocked before entering as a surprised Mac shifted his attention away from the file. He stood up and reached out and shook Sullivan's hand.

"Chief, this is a surprise. What can the crime lab help you with today?" Mac said curiously. Sullivan motioned for him to sit before he continued. Sullivan took out a copy of the adoption letter from her file and set it on Mac's desk.

"I'm not here for the crime lab, Mac. I'm here for my daughter." he said reluctantly. Mac looked at him inquisitively as he took the letter. Sullivan sat in one of the vacant chairs across from Mac and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs and pinching the bridge of his nose as Mac studied the letter.

Noting the adoptee as Samantha MacAiden Sullivan, he continued. He knew that the chief had a daughter and he'd seen her from a distance, but was never introduced. He never suspected adoption as her deep brown hair and facial features similarly matched her fathers. The only difference was her mysterious brown eyes since he had blue and his wife had green. He read over the Biological Parent Information and a feeling of astonishment and shock erupted in his body. He'd read it twice, then three times before setting it down. _Biological Mother: Aiden Katherine Thomas. Biological Father: Mac Taylor. _Memories from his past came flooding back before Mac took in a deep breath.

Sullivan noticed the immediate change in Mac's demeanor. Mac stood up from his chair and walked to the window, trying to take in the information.

"I'm not here to interrogate you, Mac. I'm just looking for answers, just as my daughter will be if she decides to follow through with coming here. I need to know if there's even the slightest possibility that this is record is true." He nodded and turned back to Sullivan and sat back into his chair.

"I was about twenty when I met Aiden…"he started hesitantly. "We had just gotten back from fighting in the Middle East and were going to be sent back over the following week. I was on leave for the four days and my best friend and I decided to take short trip to New York before leaving the states." Mac rubbed his eyes. "We were walking in Times Square," he smiled," when this fiery, brunette Navy nurse grabbed the front of my uniform and said, "Who needs a sailor, when you got a marine." He smiled at the memory as Sullivan looked at him waiting for him to continue. "It was the best time I'd ever had in my life. 'That crazy kind of love' she called it…We saw her off, before she left. Promising each other we'd keep in touch, but I never saw her after that. We sent letters back and forth before I got one letter telling me that when I got back to the states, she needed to see me…I never suspected this." he said motioning to the letter.

Sullivan nodded before pulling a small child's hairbrush in a plastic bag from his pocket, running his hands over its features. "Mac…, I need to be sure. She's been through more hell than you can possibly imagine and I don't want her coming in here...with false hope." he said looking Mac in the eyes. Mac nodded. He knew that Sullivan was right in every aspect. "Okay," Mac said.

They were in the DNA lab, noticeably to everyone that curiously walked by, when they confirmed the results with Mac and Samantha, an awkward silence following. Sullivan drew out a long sigh as he set the results on the table.

"Where do we go from here?" Mac asked quietly, still shocked at the results.

"Wherever you want…" Sullivan said hopefully. Mac slipped off the gloves, throwing them in the garbage and both stopped outside of his office.

"I uh…think you might wanna read this." he said hesitantly handing Sam's file to Mac. "I didn't think I was gonna bring myself to say this, but I'm warning you, Mac…"he started as Mac put up a hand in understanding.

"I have no intention of hurting either her or your family…I just wanna make up for lost time. Make things right." he said understanding where Sullivan's emotions were coming from. Sullivan nodded and shook Mac's hand. He turned and made his way to the elevator as Stella walked towards Mac acknowledging the Chief's presence. She looked at Mac curiously as they watched Sullivan get on the elevator.

"Everything okay, Mac?" she said concerned, as she noticed Mac tighten his grip on the file. He smiled.

"Yeah…you got a minute?" he said as he headed into his office with her following.

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A/N: Yey! We're getting there! lol I'm hoping to add more Stella/ Mac and Flack/Sam moments soon :-)


	4. Gunshots and Fathers

**Disclaimer: CBS owns me…I mean CSI:NY lol…I own the other characters.**

**A/N: There's some graphic stuff down below so please read with caution. I'm totally surprised by the response of this one so thank you!!! **

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She looked at Mac curiously as they watched Sullivan get on the elevator.

"Everything okay, Mac?" she said concerned, as she noticed Mac tighten his grip on the file. He smiled.

"Yeah…you got a minute?" he said as he headed into his office with her following.

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Stella stood in Mac's office shocked at the news as he leaned on the front of his desk across from her.

"Daughter?...So let me get this straight…Chief Sullivan's _adopted_ daughter is your _biological _daughter? " she said.

"Yeah…" he said amazed.

"How did that happen!? Have you met her yet?"Stella asked intrigued.

"Not yet…I'm not sure if I should wait for her to come to me or if I should go to her."

"I'd wait, Mac…wait until she's ready…then she'll come to you." she said rubbing his shoulder. He nodded fiddling with the file in his hand.

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Sam sat in the driver's side of the squad car annoyed with traffic as her partner, Eddie Rafferty, continued his zealous attempt on a crossword puzzle, mumbling possible answers.

Her thoughts about her adoption had been clouding her brain for the past week and she was becoming extremely impatient with herself. Her usual skill of being rough and tough at work was beginning to interfere with her emotions, as she was becoming harder on herself than usual.

She sighed harshly and honked the horn in frustration.

"Come on!!!" she yelled impatiently.

"That's not gonna help, Sammie," he said, not taking his eyes off the puzzle.

"Shut it, Rafferty," she said.

"I'm just sayin'…"he said defensively.

"Well don't say." she finished in annoyance.

Her temper had usually been an obstacle that she faced with ease and kept it hidden well. But not even years with a psychologist could completely diminish the scars from her past, leaving her frustrated with herself and her thoughts.

Aside from a select few, nobody knew about her adoption, let alone the fact that both her real father and adoptive father were head administrators of the NYPD. That wasn't something she wanted broadcasted, she just wanted to do her job as an equal. As far as everyone knew, she was a Sullivan through and through. Tough exterior, experienced in martial arts, and not taking any bullshit was just a few of the things people thought of when they heard her name.

"Finally!" she said gratefully as the traffic began to move fluidly.

Traffic had been hell all day and they were now stuck in rush hour as people were urgently making their ways home.

"Unit 217. Please respond to a possible disturbance on 1221 Ashland. Apartment B1. Copy." Rafferty reluctantly grabbed the receiver, turning his attention away from his puzzle. Sam hit the sirens and blazed her way through the mess of rush hour.

"Unit 217. En route. Over." They arrived at the brick apartment building about eight minutes later. They stepped out of the vehicle only to hear a gunshot from one of the open windows above. Rafferty raced into the entrance and up the stairs as Ava took an alternate route up the fire escape.

"Dispatch, this is Unit 217. Shots fired, we need back-up!" she said firmly into her walkie.

She stopped by a second floor open window where she could hear Rafferty yelling through the door. She crouched down outside the window and peered into the apartment, taking out her firearm. It was dark save for the sole window that she looked through. Most of the windows had been covered, but she could see that the front door to the apartment had been blockaded with large pieces of furniture. Suddenly, a dark figure moved from the front door toward the hallway away from her. She could see the glimmer of a handgun that was held tightly in his grasp.

"Dispatch, be aware the suspect has barricaded the front door." she whispered just loud enough. She could hear faint sirens in the distance getting louder. _It'll be too late. What if someone else is in there…I have to go in alone._ She peered thoroughly in the apartment one last time before quietly sneaking through the window. Crouching down close to the wooden floor, she moved out of the light and stealthily down the same hallway the suspect went in.

Walking with her gun drawn, she saw blood smeared on the walls and signs of struggle on a nearby chair that was broken on the floor. On her right there was what appeared to be a bedroom with the door cracked open. Sunlight was seeping through the open parts as she slowly pushed the door fully open. _Oh my god…_There was blood everywhere. The sheets on the bed were slashed all over what she assumed to be a body. Sam made her way to the bed, heart racing. She slowly peeled the sheet down to reveal a young girl with her eyes closed. She couldn't have been older than 15. Sam swallowed loudly and tightened her grip on her gun with one hand as she checked the pulse on her bloodied neck. _Nothing…_Slightly unnerved at the amount of blood on her hand, she regained her stance with both hands on the gun and made her way to the door.

She heard a stumble over the chair and quickly slid against the wall behind the door pulling her gun to her chest. The figure moved into the room to reveal a barefoot little girl about five years old with streaks of tears and blood down her face. Sam tapped on the wall to get her attention. The little girl looked relieved as she held out her arms to her. Sam grabbed her and hid her in the closet. She could hear officers outside in the hallway trying to get in.

"I'll be right back, sweetie." she whispered calmly. "Can you do something for me?" The little girl nodded. "Can you close your eyes and count slowly to a hundred in your head?" She nodded. "Good girl." She smiled and closed the door quietly.

Sam made her way back out into the hallway where she heard a racket coming from one of the rooms. The door was closed, but she could hear someone crying. A young girl about 10.

"Please don't…" she sobbed. Sam prepared herself to enter. Taking in a deep breath, she kicked in the door violently, gripping her weapon.

"NYPD!!! FREEZE!!!". She roared. The young girl was sitting on the bed with a ripped t-shirt and tears flooding out of her eyes as she convulsed in fear of the man that stood next to the bed. He was tall and toughly built. He froze in place and dropped the knife.

"Where's the gun?" Sam asked firmly. He smiled sinisterly.

"I don't know what you're talking about…."he smiled.

"Don't fuck with me! Where's the gun!" she yelled. He whipped out a handgun from his waistband and shot in her direction, grazing her in the arm. She fell to the floor as he came at her, thinking he hit her more accurately. She kicked his feet out from under him sending him to the floor as he dropped the gun. She sat up to get a grip on him but he came on top of her wickedly, gripping her throat. Grasping a bat that lay nearby, she socked him on the forehead with the butt of the bat, sending him off of her. She dizzily tried to get up but he swung a violent blow directly to her cheek, knocking her onto her back. He tried making his way to his feet when she sent a vigorous kick to his groin, sending him on his knees. On her feet, she cuffed him forcibly, trying to ignore the dizziness from the hit to her cheek.

She could hear a swarm of officers invade the living room as the furniture that blocked the door came crashing down. She stayed kneeling, catching her breath. Sam stood up as two SWAT officers entered into the bedroom, gaining a grip on the suspect and began to search him for other weapons as another officer took the little girl from the apartment. _The other little girl. I have to get to her._ Sam struggled to keep her balance and started falling forward when she suddenly felt two arms strongly grasp her around the waist as she dizzily struggle on her feet.

"Woh woh woh…take it easy.." a gentle male voice said worriedly. Sam tried with everything she was to keep herself on her feet but she couldn't do it. The only thing that was keeping her up was his arms.

"Just relax a'right…I got ya." Giving in, Sam softly collapsed into his chest, laying her head on his shoulder. She felt him move her towards the wall and carefully slid her to the floor. She blurrily looked around but couldn't make out a clear image. She could tell that the man in front of her was tall and had dark hair. His hands were surprisingly soft for a cop, and his touch was gentle. She closed her eyes, praying that the dizziness would be gone when she opened them again. He kept his grip on her shoulder to keep her steady, and placed his other hand on top of hers.

"Do you know who the president is?" he asked, making sure she was responsive.

"No one I voted for." He laughed.

"How about the score of the Yankee's game last night?"

"Who are the Yankee's?" she joked. He laughed in response.

"She's fine guys, EMS is on their way up." he said to the other officers. She suddenly remembered the little girl.

"Little girl. There's a little girl in the closet in the bedroom…she…" she started urgently.

"We got her already, just relax. You took one hell of hit." he said impressed.

His fingertips grazed the flesh of her cheek gently. She could feel the heat from his masculine body radiate onto hers, it was intoxicating. Sam opened her eyes to find herself staring into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. He was extremely attractive and had a tender look on his face. Don felt his stomach flutter a little bit when she opened her eyes. Aside from her being amazingly beautiful, she had the most bewitching brown eyes he'd ever seen. They stared at each other for a moment, before two voices threw them out of their reverie.

Mac and Sullivan.

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**A/N: So…I totally was worried about the president comment…stupid I know…just realize it's not meant to offend anybody but this is written for during the second season…lol Review!!! Thanks!!!**


	5. Fathers and Hospitals

Disclaimer: CBS owns CSI:NY...I own OC's...

A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews so far! I really appreciate the encouragement!!!

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They stared at each other for a moment, before two voices threw them out of their reverie.

Mac and Sullivan.

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The two men entered into the apartment making their way through the mess of broken furniture that had once blocked the door. Taking in the scene, Michael and Mac looked to hallway finding a slightly disoriented Sam sitting up with her hand comfortably intertwined with Don's as he looked at her affectionately. Sullivan's jaw tightened as he felt himself go into 'overprotective father' mode.

"Samantha," he said fatherly, intentionally disrupting the tender moment between the two. Don released his grip on her hand, realizing what it might've looked like.

"Yes, Chief," she responded, as if to remind him that although she was his daughter, she was still a cop. He nodded his head in understanding and backed down his territory.

Don grabbed her around the waist as she struggled to get on her feet by herself. Mac and Sullivan stood side by side in front of Sam and Don as a silent awkwardness filled the air. Don kept a steady hand on her upper arm just in case. Mac looked at her in awe of how much she resembled her mother. Sullivan looked between father and daughter, realizing that he should introduce them.

"Detective Mac Taylor…" he gently pointed. "This is Officer Samantha Sull…" he paused, not knowing how to finish. "Taylor- Sullivan". Sam felt guilty for putting her adoptive father in such a position and looked down, embarrassed. Mac held out his hand openly as she looked at him adoration. She took his hand and immediately felt tingles shoot up her spine. His hands were warm, experienced. She smiled gently at him as Don looked between the two, curious as to what was going on.

"Flack…" a uniform said, throwing the foursome back into reality.

"Yeah…" he said, as they shifted their attention to the uniform.

"We got the paramedics downstairs to take her to the hospital."

"A'right. Thanks Frank." he said. Sam was about to protest but just as she was about to speak, Sullivan interrupted.

"You're going. No 'ands', 'ifs, or 'buts' about it." he said tenderly. "Don, we're gonna need her statement for the report." Don nodded.

"I'll go with her." he said and led her down to the ambulance, careful not to go too fast. They made it down to the ambulance where the paramedic instructed her to lay on the gurney. The paramedic and removed her uniform shirt to get a better assessment of her injuries. Don could see the bruises around her neck and face, as well as the blood slowly seeping from her arm. He could tell that she had an almost lost look on her face and knew it had something to do with Mac and Sullivan.

"You alright if I start with the questions?" he asked. She nodded and gave him a detailed description of what had happened at the apartment. Don could tell that something was bothering her and gently laid a hand on top of hers.

"Hey…" he said delicately as she looked at him, surprised at such a tender action. "You okay?...". She smiled thankfully at him.

"Yeah…I'm fine." she said, gently massaging his fingers with her own. They gazed at each other f or a few seconds until the ambulance pulled up to the hospital._ There's something about him that just makes me feel…safe._ This thought scared Sam.

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She'd done her damndest to remain as independent as possible without the help of any man in her life, and so far had proven to be successful in her mind. To her she was independent but to her psychologist, she was avoiding companionship. _What a quack, she thought._ He'd said that she was afraid to be happy with another person, and that because of her childhood, she couldn't rely on other people for emotional support other than family.

She had to admit secretly that he wasn't far off. The last time she'd met with him, he'd brought up her past sexual abuse, which she quickly turned down the subject saying that it wasn't any of his business. He let it go…or at least she thought when he began asking about her love life.

"When was the last time you were intimate with a boyfriend?" he asked plainly. She glared at him, because in truth, she'd never had consensual sex before. It required somebody she trusted enough to get close to and because she couldn't get emotionally close to anyone it left her by herself.

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Much to her displeasure, Sam had been admitted to the hospital pending the CAT scan. She lay dressed in a typical hospital gown in her bed watching Tom and Jerry. The only sounds from the room had been from the soft volume of the television and the beeping of the heart monitor. A knock gently sounded at the door.

"Come in." she called. The door opened as Don slipped in and closed the door.

"How're you feel'n?" he asked curiously.

"Doing better, thanks…Chief's not make'n you babysit me, is he?" she asked.

"He just asked me to keep an eye on you till he got here...He seemed kinda worried on the phone." Sam furrowed her brow in interest.

"Was everything okay at the scene?"

"As far as what I gathered from Mac, everything was being handled." Don replied.

"Any guess as to motive?" Don looked at her, amused at her interest.

"Officially, all I got was that the male foster parent was abusing the two older girls. The ten year old said that the fifteen year old had tried to fight back when he…." Don stopped, unable to say it. Cases like this made him sick to his stomach. "He killed her to keep her quiet."

Sam clinched her jaw to fight back tears of anger as the beeping of her heart monitor sped up. Don sensed he anxiety and reached out to hold her hand. She looked away so he wouldn't see the tears fall. He didn't ask questions. He didn't judge her. He just sat there supportively.

_I was supposed to make sure this didn't happen to anyone else…_

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A/N: Keep in mind that Don doesn't realize that she's Sullivan's daughter...Review!


	6. Guilt and Missed Chances

Disclaimer: CBS owns CSI:NY

A/N: Sorry for the delay…I haven't felt motivated to write lately…I've been checking my e-mail religiously, just hoping that someone under my alerts had posted something lol Apparently some are in a writer drought just like me…lol :-)

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A week and a half after the incident, Sam silently continued washing dishes alone with her mother in her parent's comfortable two story home as she did every Sunday night since she was welcomed into the Sullivan family.

As a law enforcement family, her parents knew that their time together was precious and would continue their Sunday night tradition to maintain that close bond. It seemed even more important now, especially after Sam's run-in, even though she swore that she was fine her parents knew it was bothering her. Tonight gave her a chance to relax. They were always relaxed during their dinners. All phones turned off. No TV. No police calls to rush out to. No papers to grade. No interruptions. Just family.

"So…Mike told me about Mac." Julie started, hoping to provoke a serious conversation with her daughter. Most of the night, they had conversed with casual conversation of news and work, slightly dancing around the issue of Mac, hoping she would open up but she would skillfully change the topic.

Sam slightly paused before continuing with her task, handing a dish to Julie to dry. Julie couldn't help but notice the frown on her daughters face. "Munchkin, talk to me." she said gently.

With all of the stress from work and trying to constantly put up her barriers, Sam suddenly felt her walls caving into her mother's request. After all, she didn't have anyone that could really understand her situation and she hadn't felt so alone in her life. Her chin began to quiver as her eyes teared. Taking notice of this, her mother set down the towel and took in her daughters soaked hands.

"I'm fi…"

"Oh honey, don't bull-shit me…I got more experience at it than you do…" she said amuzingly, as her daughter laughed. "I can't say I understand what you're going through but I damn well sense how you feel."

"It's just…mom, you didn't see the look on Dad's face when he introduced us…I felt so guilty for putting him in that position…" she said, letting the tears fall as her mother grasped her hands tighter for support.

"Baby, your dad is a tough cookie…we both know that…he's dealing with his emotions in his own way. None of this is your fault no matter how 'logically' you think your reasoning is. We only want what's best for you…and this is it." she finished, reassuring Sam.

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Don walked confidently down the second floor of the precincts hallway to the elevator.

The day was off to an interesting start the second he'd sat in his desk adjacent to his partner, Scagnetti. He'd received a call from his Inspector that he'd be put on a high priority case as lead detective. Initially he'd been shocked, but the aggressive voice on the other line received his attention requesting his presence on the tenth floor of the building for a briefing before going on a stake-out with Angell.

He pressed the 'up' button as he looked around to the unusually quieted area. _Looks like the crazies took the night off._ The elevator dinged open as he almost collided with a female uniform.

"Sor…ry." he finished, meeting Sam's glowing gaze. Both slightly surprised at each other's presence.

"Excuse me, sir." an older woman said, trying to politely ask Don to move so she could exit the elevator. Don shook himself back.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry." he moved onto the elevator next to her, their arms slightly brushing.

She was surprisingly happy to see him again, yet extremely embarrassed about her slight breakdown in front of him at the hospital. He desperately wanted to talk to her but found every topic he could think of, boring. He was interested in how she was coping with the incident but also her in general.

The elevator stopped at the fourth floor, letting the last patron off, leaving the two alone. Don watched his chances slip away as the elevator climbed to the tenth floor. With a ding, the doors opened to the semi-empty floor and he regrettably moved away. Sam let out the breath she was holding as the doors closed, surprised when his hand stopped the doors. She waited, hopeful, as he looked back at her about to say something when a voice interrupted him.

"Don, we still on for tonight?" Angell said with a flirtatious smirk. The slightest bit of hope in Sam's heart had shattered as she faked a half smile. Don looked back at Sam as their chance withered away.

"Have a good day, Detective." she said, almost sadly as the doors closed. She let out a regretful sigh, angry with herself. _Stupid! The more boys I meet, the more I love my dog…_

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A/N: I'm in a crappy mood so I wrote another sad chapter…I'll try to throw some 'happiness' into the mix in the next one…lol Review!...Seriously…Please…I'm desperate for motivation…


	7. Breaking Silence

A/N: Sorry it took so long! Thank you for your previous reviews! I look forward to them very much!

P.S.-I am normally an Angell fan but I needed a semi-villain so to speak in this one…sorry!

* * *

Samantha stood at the front doors of the NYPD's Crime Lab Building still dressed in her NYPD uniform, a light breeze sending a delicate shiver up her spine. She'd felt tiresome from a full day's work but she knew in her heart that it was time to face her fear.

It'd been about three weeks since she had met Mac and she felt that the more she waited the more awkward it would be. _Would he be disappointed? Will he like me? _She'd tried everything to distract herself. Running, cycling, boxing, but they only offered minimal relief. She felt alone in this battle. Her parents loved her dearly, of this, she had no doubt, but nobody outside of family knew about her adoption or her past. She had no one who really knew her.

She'd spent a majority of her college days in silence, attending lectures, doing homework, interning at the NYPD but rarely let anyone in. If she did let anyone in, she only let them see the tough side of her, never weakness. And if anyone tried too hard to get close to her she'd let out a wrath that any man or god would fear. Her time on the streets taught her one thing in particular. Survival.

She knew that it would take time to open up to her newly found father, but found much comfort in the tales she'd heard from other officers. Onward she went, forcing her nervous feet one foot in front of the other.

* * *

Mac was seated at his desk flipping through a case file, occasionally eyeing Sam's personnel file that lay closed on the corner of his desk. Mac had been speechless. The first night that Sullivan had given Mac her personnel file, it had sat on his living room table for a short period before he found the strength to open it. Absorbing it all as quickly as he could, Mac was shocked to learn of the horrifying things that she experienced at the hands of her foster parents. An immense sense of guilt came over him. _If I'd only knew, she would've never had to face this._

Stella was the one whom he confided in. She was the only one who'd had the courage to approach him frankly, after his distractions at work became noticeable.

"Mac, please tell me what's going on with you."

Finally, he gave in. Him and Stella began meeting regularly for coffee at Kate's Café just around the corner from where Mac lived. Their conversations calmed him, even though sometimes neither knew what to say. But he was thankful to have her in his life. His work had increasingly grown more productive as the days passed by.

* * *

Sam stepped off the elevator, her heart pacing a little faster. _I can't do this, she said to herself._

"Samantha?" a female voice said. Stella casually walked over to her holding out her hand.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" she tried to be as polite as possible. Stella mentally kicked herself. She'd only recognized her from her personnel file picture, something that she wasn't supposed to see.

"Not, technically. I'm a friend of your father's." Samantha froze. _Which father was she talking about? She couldn't possibly know._ Realizing her reaction, Stella quickly spoke.

" I hear that the Chief has really been turning things around for the better, " she smiled. Relaxing, Sam mimicked her smile. "Yes, I'm hearing good things all around."

"Do you need help finding something or someone?" Stella said, hoping to be of help.

"I'm actually looking for Detective Taylor." she said, almost feeling like a rookie again.

"Mac's office is just down the hall to your left. Glass windows, you'll see it." Stella took one long look at Sam's familiar appearance before they said their good byes.

Turning left, she came upon Mac's office. He was standing at the large window, looking out into the city. Summoning up every ounce of courage she had, she lightly tapped on his window. He turned and held in a breath when he saw her. Walking in her direction, he waved her in. Letting the glass door close behind her, they stood face to face, neither sure of what to say. She felt awkward now realizing he knew about everything. Her father had told her about their conversation. She had been angry, embarrassed at first, but it spared her the trouble of telling him herself.

"My dad told me that he'd talked to you." she pushed out and quickly shook her head, "I'm so sorry, I should've never came to see you at work…"

"No No No," Mac stopped her. "I'm glad you did." She smiled faintly and took one of the seats that were in front of the desk while Mac took the other. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs.

"You're probably here expecting answers about…your mother and me." The look on her face confirmed it. Mac went on to tell her of how they met and the circumstances of how he never found out about her. "You have to believe me that if I knew you existed; I would've taken care of you, the way you deserve to be taken care of and protected you the way a father does for his family." Emotion overcame her, as she fought for the tears not to fall. He took her hands gently in his. "I'm sorry. I know I can never make up for everything you've been through, but I want to be a part of your life if you'll let me". He reached for a tissue from his desk, allowing her to compose herself.

"I don't blame you. I wondered but I never blamed. I have a good family that treats me tremendously. They gave me a second chance at life. I do want to get to know you and I want you to be a part of my life." They both smiled tearfully as Mac stood and embraced his daughter.

Onlooker's curious gazes peered in on them. Including a one Detective Jessica Angell.

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A/N: I crave reviews! lol I didn't originally mean that to sound desperate…but oh well. Please tell me if you'd like this story to go in a particular direction!


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